For England, Alec
by Rhivanna
Summary: Why did Bond catch Alec Trevelyan just before he fell? What would have happened if he had let him live? Did Alec really fake his own death or was he truly injured that day at Arkangelsk?
1. After you, 006

Disclaimer: I do not own James Bond or Alec Trevelyan, and I definitely am not making money off of this. I had considered not doing this because of a couple of other writers out there that had the same idea but I have decided to go ahead with it since my idea does differ from theirs in some ways. I sincerely hope I am not stepping on anyone's toes doing this.

"For England, James?" Trevelyan asked, the blood rushing to his head. Bond looked down at him, torn, both reminded of years past and knowing what he should do, what no one would blame if he did do. But somehow….

"No," he answered at length. "For you, Alec." He hauled with all of his strength on his former friend's leg; a sort of wild hope crossed Trevelyan's face as he swung himself up to finish pulling himself back onto the plate. The two men stood and faced each other; the transmitter groaned ominously over their heads. Alec stared at his former friend and partner in surprise and confusion.

"Why?" he asked breathlessly. Bond shook his head.

"No time for questions." The helicopter hovered above them; the Russian programmer gestured frantically to Bond, who nodded and made a sort of motion between himself and Alec. Natalya did not look happy about it but she nodded in return and nudged the helicopter pilot with her gun. The pilot looked all too happy to comply. Bond jumped first, closely followed by Trevelyan. The helicopter wobbled dangerously for a moment before righting itself and flying off, just as the transmitter crashed to the ground in a fiery mess of metal. The Janus base was destroyed and with it all of Alec's plans and ambitions. For a moment he wondered if Bond might not have been kinder to kill him.

The helicopter dropped them off in a field not far from the ruined base, unable to support the extra weight on the runners for too long; the pilot seemed to look to Alec for instructions and the former spy waved a hand at him in a clear gesture to go. He would not have any of his men captured along with him; he could negotiate for himself alone but not with the responsibility for them hanging over his head, a ready bargaining chip for MI6. And he did feel a certain responsibility for them; he had not gone so far bad as to abandon his own men.

Bond's mind was racing. He had not truly bothered to think about what he was going to do when he had pulled Alec back from the edge of the transmitter; he had just known that he couldn't drop him. Now Alec stood before him, and Bond had no idea how he was going to handle the situation. Natalya was watching, the gun pointed at the Janus Syndicate head, ready to shoot if need be. Something about the way Alec was standing, however, told Bond that he was not going to try anything; he was waiting to see what Bond was going to say.

"Put the gun down," Bond said quietly to Natalya. She stared, not believing what she had just heard. "I said put the gun down." Bond stared at his former friend.

"What's it to be, Alec?" he asked, finally coming to a decision. The former 006 stared at him, not understanding.

"What do you mean?" he asked warily. "There's only one fate for traitors when last I looked."

"Will you come back in honor or in handcuffs, Alec?" Bond asked softly. "It's your choice." Natalya gaped; Alec's eyes narrowed.

"What are you offering?" he asked suspiciously even as Natalya cried out,

"What are you doing!" Bond ignored her to answer Alec.

"You have information, information that could prove invaluable to MI6, information about arms dealers, terrorist organizations, former KGB operatives. You can return to England as a reformed agent with that intelligence and have relative freedom, or you can refuse and be hanged like the turncoat you are. Which is it to be?"

Alec stared in disbelief. "Why?" he asked bluntly. "What's in it for you, James?"

"I just told you."

Alec snorted in disbelief.

"No you didn't. Where's the profit in it for 007, Her Majesty's loyal servant? Why are you doing this, James?"

"Her Majesty's loyal servant will have the satisfaction of knowing that he has served his country to the best possible advantage," Bond answered coolly, stepping back. "Well? I need a decision, Alec." Trevelyan looked away, thinking long and hard. He could live with Bond breathing down his neck and his values shattered or he could die. Which was more important? His life or his beliefs? He could live on the funds that he had amassed from the Janus syndicate, not counting the funds he had "diverted" from the London bank. It might result in the loss of his double-oh status for a while but it would be worth it to get his life back on track after this disaster.

"Hey, Jimbo!" The cry came from a little way away.

"Now, Alec," Bond said urgently. Trevelyan considered for a split second longer before making his decision. It was time to stop thinking of what his parents would have wanted and start thinking of what was best for Alec.

"Tell Moneypenny that 006 is on his way home," he replied quietly. Bond nodded and turned to greet the corp. of U.S. marines who were headed toward them.


	2. Back From the Dead

Thank you so much to everybody who reviewed!

Iolana: No, I won't be that mean, but poor Alec is really going to have to go through the metaphorical wringer before even he knows what really happened.

LadyDeb1970: I am so glad you like my story! I am, like you, waiting patiently for the next chapter of yours.

Alec had forgotten how green England really was. Even in the heart of London, there were trees and parks, things that one simply did not see very often in St. Petersburg because of the cold climate. The atmosphere was different too; there was none of the wary, watching air that the Russian city had exuded. He was using such observations in order to avoid thinking about the upcoming "talk" with M.

For the umpteen – millionth time the thought crossed his mind how easy it would be to lose James in London and disappear for good. He shook his head slightly, firmly dismissing the notion. That could only work for so long; now that they knew that he was alive it would be simply a matter of time before they found him again. He was not going to run scared from this.

They reached the MI6 building with what seemed like uncommon speed. Bond stepped up to the voice coder and pressed a button.

"Agent 007, reporting for debriefing." It was almost ritual at this point to him; today it served as a comfortingly routine action to offset the profound abnormality of Alec's return. Yet even here there was a reminder of what had gone before; had this been 1985 there would have been some off-color remark from Alec at the word "debriefing". This was not 1985, however, and the familiar ribaldry did not come.

He moved to the side, motioning to Trevelyan, who raised an eyebrow and also stepped forward. Either MI6 had moved uncommonly fast in putting his file back into the computer and therefore the voice coder or they had gotten lax about security in the last nine years.

"Agent 006, also reporting for debriefing." The door slid open and the two former friends slipped inside quickly.

From the moment Alec stepped inside the door he was on edge. Bond had to give it to him; it did not show in his face, or even in his eyes. It was the way that he held himself that gave away his apprehension, or perhaps his anger, to Bond's experienced eye. Alec had never appreciated being told what to do; it had to rankle that he should be forced to come not-quite-begging back to MI6.

Bond had not told Moneypenny that Alec was coming home but he had told M, who had sounded at first confused and then highly skeptical. He had not been altogether thorough with his report over the phone at Guantanamo Base, not wishing to either give out important information over a line that was not necessarily secure or to give Wade all the details; the CIA agent would probably have been just a little unwilling to release Alec if he had known who he was. Alec had simply been introduced as "an old colleague who took a bit of a bump on the head" and whom Bond had not really expected to meet there. Natalya had stood in the background during the whole conversation, discreetly glowering at Alec and flat-out refusing to listen to Bond when he tried to explain. She had returned to Russia on the first available flight, claiming that she wanted nothing more to do with Bond, Trevelyan, or spies in general.

The buzz had started. Alec could hear it as he walked across the main lobby floor toward the elevator that would take them as directly as possible to M's office, could feel the eyes turning to watch him with first suspicion and then, from some of the older members of MI6, shocked disbelief. He did not make eye contact; that would invite questions that he did not want to answer right now. Bond followed behind, doing much the same thing. The explanations and exclamations could wait.

They stood silent in the elevator. Bond hadn't killed Alec Trevelyan; that didn't mean that he was willing to forgive him or to speak to him any more than was necessary, and Alec equally had no reason to speak to Bond. The doors slid open; they stepped out and this time Bond took the lead. They were soon standing in front of M's office. Bond knocked.

"Come in!" Moneypenny's voice sounded from behind the door and Alec froze momentarily. He had somehow managed to forget about Moneypenny like so many of the people he had considered friends before Arkangelsk. He did not know whether Moneypenny had known of his past or not, did not know whether she had betrayed him like all the rest or was blissfully ignorant of his parentage as he had been until – well, it didn't matter now. He shook himself out of his reverie; he did not intend to tread that path again, no matter how angry he still was at what they had done to him.

Moneypenny looked up from her desk. "James! Well that was quick, I must say! James?" Bond had not responded at all, seemingly preferring to flash a strained half-smile and nod. Moneypenny frowned. This was not at all like him.

"James, what's wrong?"

"I expect I am," a voice answered. Moneypenny stood, startled, to look over Bond's shoulder. For a fleeting moment she thought that she was hearing things, so completely impossible was it for the owner of that voice to be here. Yet there he stood; tall, with blond hair and a well-sculpted face, scarcely changed from that day nine years ago when she had last seen him, at least in physical appearance. Those eyes, however, held a hardness that had never been there before; there was evidence of pain and bitterness in the deepest depths of those grey-green orbs. What did he mean, he was what was wrong with James? Surely James should be glad to see his old friend alive! What on Earth could have happened – how -?

"Alec?" Her voice was tinged with disbelief.

"Hello Moneypenny," he replied, confirming her belief that she was not hallucinating. "I believe we have an appointment with M." His voice was cool, not quite angry but not friendly either.

"Alec, how - ?" she started, but she was cut off.

"You do indeed, gentlemen," a clipped voice said from the doorway. M had entered the room, as was her custom, without a sound. "Come with me please." Bond and Trevelyan followed her into the office and closed the door behind them, leaving a very confused Moneypenny.


	3. The New M

Ack! I have been sadly remiss in my duties! I have been reminded at last however that I have readers patiently waiting (and that patience is truly admirable given the length of time that has passed) for me to update, so here goes. Hope everyone likes this as well as they have previous chapters, and once again, thank you for all the reviews.

The office had changed, Alec noted with a mix of relief and disappointment. On the one hand, he did not think that he could have lasted through the interview if the old M had been sitting there in front of him with all the familiar trappings of the Head Intelligence Officer's office around him. On the other hand the office had lost a great deal of its old charm; everything here positively screamed authority and severity. Looking at the new M, Alec could not help but think that the office matched the woman.

"Take a seat." The two agents did not look at one another as they complied, M noted with interest. No agreement there, even perhaps a faint touch of animosity. No longer friends, then. She remained silent a moment more, studying the men before her before, with a sigh, she asked,

"Would one of you care to explain how Mr. Trevelyan is sitting in this office at this late junction?"

"Well…" Bond began; Alec sighed internally. He had a feeling it was going to be a very long afternoon.

He was not proven wrong. By the time Bond had finished the debriefing, he had managed to make Alec sound like the modern-day equivalent of Jack the Ripper and now M was looking at him as though he had two heads. Alec resisted the urge to squirm in his chair; those eyes could pin you to the wall if you weren't careful. She turned her gaze to Bond again after a moment.

"You still have not answered my question, 007. Why is Mr. Trevelyan sitting here and not in a high security holding cell after all that he has done?" It was Bond's turn to fidget now.

"He has…" He looked to Alec and for a second the old pleading look flickered in his eyes from the days when they were still partners. His request could not have been any clearer; Alec smirked and for a moment the past nine years were forgotten. Alec looked away and the moment passed; he cleared his throat softly.

"What James is trying to say is that I have information, the sort that I believe you could use. There is just one catch." M frowned.

"You are not in a position to make conditions, Mr. Trevelyan." Alec smiled grimly, his expression suddenly very serious.

"Oh but I am. Did you want that information or didn't you? It's not written down anywhere, and unless you can read minds…" He let the sentence dangle. M's eyes narrowed.

"We'll see. Name your terms first." Alec took a deep breath and looked her in the eye.

"I want to return to MI6." There was dead silence in the room for a moment.

"You're joking, aren't you?" M asked finally, an incredulous expression on her face. "You can't seriously…how on Earth could I trust you after you betrayed us…?"

"When have I ever betrayed MI6?" Alec asked, a little more heatedly. "Have any agents gone missing in Russia since Archangel? Were there any leaks of intelligence shortly after my capture? Look back through your files, madam, and I think you'll find that there weren't." M stared at him. But this time it was a thinking stare. She had been with MI6 a long time. She would have remembered any such occurrences as Alec spoke of and, though she hated to admit it, he was right; there had been nothing. But to take on such a dangerous man when he had already defected once… how could she risk her agents and her country in such a fashion?

"I'll agree to any restrictions you place on me; I simply want my job back," Alec said quietly. It was as though Bond was not in the room; this was between himself and M. If he could convince her, he was home free. She looked up from her desk and straight into his eyes. He did not look away, and she read her answer there. She did not trust him, oh no, not yet, but she was willing to give him another chance, if only for the information he offered. She nodded slowly.

"Very well, 006." Alec breathed a sigh of relief.

"There will be conditions," M said sternly. "You will report to the medical officer for the standard mental and physical examinations and, providing you pass those, you will work beside 007 until such time as he tells me that he feels he can trust you." Bond grimaced; Alec nodded. He had expected something of the like. He stood to leave.

"And Mr. Trevelyan," M said quietly, "one foot out of line, one hint that you are betraying us as you did before, and I shall see you executed for treason. Do I make myself quite clear?" Alec inclined his head.

"Inescapably," he answered. M nodded.

"Dismissed."


End file.
